


I Wanna Be Sedated

by WhitePicketFences



Category: Class of 198x, Cow Chop
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Use, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Smoking, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-15 12:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11230629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhitePicketFences/pseuds/WhitePicketFences
Summary: "Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go I wanna be sedatedNothin' to do and no where to go-o-oh I wanna be sedated"Mike Jaundice, a great kid with a terrible name.  Some might justify that he has a terrible life.  After his dad left, his mom's been sleeping around.  I mean, the poor kid caught her fucking the neighbor.  To be fair, he doesn't see it as the worst that could be happening. But possibly a party that he regretted could lead to something to look forward to besides laying in his bed covering his ears with pillows to avoid hearing the creaking of the headboard from the other room.





	1. Chapter 1

They knew very damn well he didn't drink. At least not so excessively he came to school the next day hungover like the rest of them. Either way, they had forced Mike to come to this party. His friends - more or less of what they were, he only hung out with them for reasons that only Mike himself could comprehend - had brought him to come to this party and he was going to get out of it. Mike didn't beg to not go though. It was at Ryan's, that one kid everyone knew because his parents were out of town most of the time for one reason or another. And when his parents were out, the parties began. They weren't anything extreme or wild, but there were always those two drunk kids making out in the corner and someone who just showed up while on an LSD trip. Even though it wasn't much, it still satisfied mostly everyone there. 

Mike stood in the corner, red solo cup in hand. His so called friends had already ran off to try to get some girls in bed with them, leaving Mike to be alone. He didn't have much to do besides stare off, occasionally tapping his foot on the shagged carpet of the living room. The only music on was some Top 40 shit- not exactly his favourite. He took a sip of his soda and looked around before walking out to the kitchen. In the kitchen was just two-liter bottles of soda along with whatever booze Ryan either stole from his parent's cabinet or got with some fake ID. A few semi-stale bags of chips sat on the counter along with abandon cups the few remains of someone's ground up pills. As he poured himself a refill of Sprite, someone came running down the stairs. Upon hearing the loud noise, Mike turned around. 

At the bottom of the stairwell was Ryan. He didn't look at Mike, just glanced, brushed his dual dyed hair back (he thought that it was "cool", but not in the way Sam did, Ryan just wanted to be the general "popular" type) and straightened wiped his face with bottom of his shirt with the logo of some metal band Mike didn't recognize.

It wasn't until the party was unofficially deemed over until the two met again. It was about three in the morning and everyone had left - well except for Mike. His friends had abandoned him once again, leaving without him even knowing. When he realized that they had left, he honestly wasn't even mad. Shit happens, he thought. However, he didn't have a ride back to his house. Just as he was considering his options, Ryan appeared holding a few empty beer bottles in his hand, probably from cleaning up the huge mess everyone had made. When he saw that Mike was still here, he looked at him confused.

"Friends ditch ya?" he guessed, hitting the nail right on the head. Mike nodded back, slightly embarrassed. 

Ryan smirked in a barely noticeable fashion and picked walked over to pick up another empty can from the floor. 

"I would drive you but I get pulled over by the fucking police," Ryan laughed under his breath, "Can't run into those fuckers again." 

Mike tugged at the collar of his blue jacket, his only response a weak "oh". He didn't quite know how to respond, not out of shock or surprise, just because he had no idea what to say. 

"You know what? We'll just walk." Ryan jogged over to the trash bag over on the floor of the kitchen and threw the several cans and bottles into it and walks back, grabbing his house key hanging on a screw in the wall by the front door. Standing in the doorway, he looks back at Mike, a bit confused. 

"I can walk by myself..." he quietly notes, his cheeks slightly red. He felt a bit like a child, having to be treated specially when he wanted to be like his older peers. And also he hated to admit it, but Ryan seemed like a decent person from this one minute encounter he had had with him. 

"Hey, I wouldn't want somethin' happening to someone like you." Ryan winked and nodded his head towards the now open door. 

Avoiding having to ask something along the lines of 'Someone like me?', he just walked towards the other boy and shut the door behind him. 

"So where do you live?"

"22nd Avenue."

Ryan nodded, looking down at the ground as he walked. 

When they walked, Mike sporadically looked over at Ryan. He'd seen him in the hall on the way to Algebra and in the lunchroom, but he had never talked to him - not that was a big deal to him anyway... He gave off a weird vibe to Mike, whether it be his black Converse shoes that he never picked up off the damn ground as he walked or the smell of spray on deodorant that emitted off of him. Mike didn't know what to think of him for now. Why was he even thinking about him in the first place? They didn't even know each other.

Ryan broke the awkward silence first. "You never told me your name." He looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"Mike," he replied. 

"Cool," Ryan returned as his default response to new information that wouldn't considering necessarily groundbreaking, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. "I guess I should probably say that I'm Ryan." 

Mike nodded. "I like your shirt." 

"Oh, you like Whitesnake?"

"White... who?" Mike replied with a confused expression.

Ryan shocked his head and laughed. In all honesty, instead of being confused on why someone would compliment something they knew nothing about, he found Mike's ignorance of certain things (particularly at this moment 1970s to 1980s metal and rock music) kind of, well, cute. God, he hated that word, but it was the best that came to his mind at the moment. He took the compliment however, in the back of his mind thinking about why Mike even said it. 

Until then was just smalltalk about what other random things they happened to like and how shitty their bosses at work were (this was more of a conversation led by Mike, for Ryan didn't even have a job). They could have walked a bit faster, but little conversations seemed to slow their pace down. A half hour later, there they were at the front door of the Jaundice household. 

"Well, here we are," said Mike, walking down the sidewalk in his front yard. Ryan followed by his side. When Mike opened the door, which was for some reason unlocked, he turned around and told Ryan he would see him later. 

"Wait," Mike began. "Don't you have to walk back?" 

Ryan chuckled before reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a pen and mint wrapper. He scribbed down the digits of his house phone and handed it to Mike. With a smirk, he remarked, "I guess if you feel worried you can just call."

Before Mike responded, Ryan turned around and walked away, feeling happier with himself than he had even just twenty minutes ago. He didn't quite know why he did that or how even felt, but there was no remorse.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a week since Mike had recieved the tiny piece of paper with seven digits scribbled across it, but through the confusion and worrying about what to do from there, it felt a lot longer. That night after Ryan had left and he went up to his bedroom, Mike sat the paper on the table next to his bed and laid down. As he tried to sleep, his thought about the paper. There wasn't much to think about, but he was going to be the one to overthink it. Would calling too soon me seem like an asshole? was one of the many racing thoughts in his mind. Why had he even given me the number? Was it a mistake? A spur of the moment decision with no thought? Fuck, maybe he was drunk. Or high. Ryan was a heavy drinker and Mike had saw him red-eyed somewhere before. Eventually he just closed his eyes with a sigh and fell to sleep. 

For the next seven days he thought about Ryan in the back of his mind. His horrible blonde dye job and the scar on his chin from where he took a tumble off his skateboard in front of everyone at school on the way out a few months ago. The freckles on his nose and the bruises on his knuckles from God knows what. The stupid little physical things Mike had noticed that just kept him thinking about him more. Although he was in Mike's mind, words of him never escaped his mouth. 

After school on Friday, he and Hannah walked home together. They seemed like an odd pair to those who had not known them. To the gazing eye, they didn't appear like it but they were best friends. They weren't together twenty-four/seven but they relied on each other constantly. Mike would listen to Hannah's late night rants after sneaking downstairs to use the landline while his mom was sleeping (possibly with somebody). Hannah dealt with Mike feeling down about his whole family situation. He absolutely hated sharing it or letting other people know, but not having a dad and his mom never paying attention to him got to him sometimes. No one else was going to listen to him. Even though it was rare for the two to be able to relate to each other's issues, they listened. 

Mike had planned to stay over at Hannah's house for the night (after Hannah had to explain to her parents about a thousand times that Mike was not her boyfriend). They hadn't planned anything specific to do besides maybe watch a movie and Hannah talk about her school projects about topics Mike knew nothing about. Actually, Mike had planned one thing- well planned to try to do one thing: ask for advice. On the whole Ryan situation. He didn't want to have to ask but one, if he had to ask someone it would be Hannah, and two, he was sick of staying up thinking about it.

The two spoke about how each other's day had been and other casual banter until they were at the Lee family's front door. Hannah reached around in her backpack and pulled out her key and unlocked the door. The two entered the household, one rather nervous (unknowingly to the other). They took their shoes off and sat their bags down by the door and headed into Hannah's room. Her room was rather clean, minus the random pile of notebooks with pages ripped out and random notes in blue and black ink scribbled all over. Hannah jumped onto her bed while Mike sat on a beanbag chair adjacent to where she was laying. For hours they talked about whatever little things were on their busy minds while Metallica on low volume from Hannah's record player played in the background. God, why did everything remind Mike of Ryan? He didn't want his mind to be led there but guess what, it did. It was hard enough for him to concentrate anyway, but an attractive boy who gave him his number wasn't really helping. 

'Fuck,' he thought to himself hearing the familiar lyrics of a song from a band he had seen Ryan wearing merchandise of at school several times before. 'Just... forget.' And somehow he did. Ryan escaped the rest of his mind for the rest of the night, until he and Hannah were in the living room wanting the cheesy late night horror movie marathons on the television. Laying on the floor with the white comforter spread over them while eating popcorn, they laughed at the poor attempts at scaring the audience. (Hannah also laughed when Mike would occasionally actually get scared at a poorly used jumpscare.) Whether it was obvious or not, they both enjoyed each other's company. 

How Ryan somehow managed to get brought up is still a mystery to us all. One of the characters on the screen, a bratty ill-tempered stereotypical high school valley girl blonde had just gotten attacked and the two found that oddly hilarious. 

"Pff, she even screams like a bitch," Mike joked, taking a sip from his bottle of water. 

Hannah chuckled, glancing over at him. "You know who that reminds me of?"

He raised his eyebrows in question. 

"Jessica." 

Mike laughed at the idea of some bitchy girl at school getting jumped at my a man dressed in unrealistic vampire or zombie makeup. 

"And speaking of Jessica," Hannah remarked, "Appearantly she's dating Alex. Like, you know, Ryan's friend. That's some weird shit to me, but I don't question it. I mean, what does he see in her? Not that he has too much to offer himself. But you know who I'm talking about, right? Don't you know Ryan?"

Mike had that short 'oh shit' moment for quickly responding with a short "yeah". 

Noticing his weird expression and behavior, Hannah decided to inquire on it. 

"Something wrong, Jaundice?" 

Well there was no point in lying now.

"Maybe." 

"And the thing wrong is...?"

He took in a deep breath. 

"Well last week Chris, Jake, Zach and some other people drug me to Ryan's party and they kind of left me there and then Ryan decided to walk me home and he may have gave me his number."

He spoke quickly, glancing away in slight embarrassment. He didn't even want to feel embarassed by this; and that's what made it embarrassing. How simple the situation was and how stuck and confused he was with it. 

Mike was expecting some long response about how he made a mistake at not calling back immediately or didn't tell Hannah about it the night it happened. But no. He just got a curious response of, "Are you interested?" 

Even though it wasn't the response he was expecting, Mike answered quite quickly with a nod. He left it at that, feeling a tiny bit bad about not revealing all the little details of this situation to his best friend. Somehow through just a few sentences they had learned a lot about each other, even inadvertently revealed secrets.

"Call him then, asshole."

And that was it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try, I try. I tried to work more of the other 198x characters into this chapter by the way.


	3. Chapter 3

Somehow, he had did it. After Hannah yelled at him for making Ryan wait a whole week for his call, Mike picked up the phone, trying to drown out the noise from upstairs and dialed the number given to him on the tiny slip of paper.

After he left Hannah's house, he walked home and snuck downstairs, even though he knew the only other people in the house were upstairs occupied with each other in their bedroom. He grabbed the phone hanging by its rotary dial on the wall and input the numbers sloppily written down. As the familiar dial up tone played, he waited nervously. It seemed that every situation of this nature ended with Mike being nervous or jittery at the mere thought of talking to someone who clearly wouldn't mind talking to him. 

There was a crisp cut in the ringing noise. 

"Hello?" asked a familiar voice that Mike had not heard in what seemed like an eternity but recognized perfectly. 

"Oh, uh, hey, this is Ryan right?" He knew it was Ryan, but even though he did it a lot, Mike wanted to prevent himself from embarrassing himself.

"Yeah..." Ryan was about to continue with 'and who is this?' but just as the words were about to escape his mouth, he realized. "Guess you missed me." He smirked although it wasn't visible to the person on the other end of the line.

"Ye-" Mike cut himself off. "Uh, I just wanted to call since you, you know, gave me your number and all," he spoke, avoiding the statement that Ryan had proposed. 

"I fucking know that I gave you my number. I may be dumb, but not that dumb... Whatever. Anyway, you were the one who called me. Well, but I did initiate this conversation..." Ryan unknowingly rambled on for minutes, talking to himself almost, forgetting about the conversation that he was just having. Although it made little sense to him, Mike silently listened to his little diatribe about himself being forgetful, not knowing who should lead conversation, and whatever else somehow related to what was just happening. He noticed Ryan's sporadic use of words like _reposed_ and _absquatulate_ and not to judge people but Ryan was not someone Mike expected to speak like that considering most of the time at school and at his parties profanity was used in every other sentence. 

"But back to where I was." The sudden change knocked Mike a bit off guard. "I'm gonna skip the bullshit, you wanna go to the drive-in on Saturday? I know they're playing some utter shit but my brother Zach is coming back from college for a week and I really don't wanna put up with that asshole. So... Wanna go?"

Without hesitation, Mike replied with a "Sure." He didn't care if he sounded a bit too desperate, his mind had been on Ryan for a while and although he hated to admit it, this was something he wanted. 

"I'll pick you up around 6:00." And with that he hung up. 

 

Saturday night, 5:50. Mike sat on his front porch, casually looking behind him through the window to check the clock on the family room wall. The sky was just starting to turn a pale yellow, fading into pink. 

A small red car drove down the road, slowing down to a stop, completely unparallel to the curb. The window rolled down to reveal the asshole teenager known by the name of Ryan. 

"C'mon, let's go, asshole" he laughed slightly as he spoke, motioning with his hands for Mike to get into the car. Mike looked around for a second before slowly walking down the sidewalk, pockets in hand towards the automobile. 

Neither of them really dressed up nice or special. Mike didn't have too much nice clothing as it was. He wore a lot of plain single coloured t-shirts and jackets. Ryan on the other hand, just didn't fucking care. He always wore some expensive sneakers that he probably stole and a black t-shirt with the logo of some metal or rock band. 

On the radio was Iron Maiden. Ryan hummed along to the song he had heard many times as he unlocked the door for the slightly younger to get in. 

Mike got in and buckled up his seat belt before looking over at Ryan. His eyes were red, probably smoking just before he got here. 

"Hey," Ryan began. 

"Hey."

And with that, driving away, they both hoped for a decent time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try, I promise I'm trying even though its shitty. Sorry chapters are short and sorry this took a while to update. Been feeling shitty. I just used shitty twice. Also this story is absolute garbage.


	4. Chapter 4

_"Every single day, every word you say."_

The familiar song played over the radio, the words sometimes fading through the static but still containing that slight sense of surrealness. A slight humming accompanied the words of Sting, but a lot quieter and lacking the meaning. And when it is said that the hum was quiet- it was quiet, not soft. The sound was deep and seemed to reflect its creator's appearance: the scars of his face, his cracked hands on the steering wheel.

_"Every game you play."_

Now Mike was too focused, staring out the window, gazing into the dark rainy night. The slightest drizzle had begun recently, now loud splats of rain could be heard on the roof. He could not hear the hum and could only feel the vibrations of the tune even if the stereo was cranked up the whole way. His eyes traced the drops slowly going down the window, every detail. But suddenly he wasn't focusing on those details anymore.

"You don't know The Police?," a sudden voice interrupted. Mike wasn't looking at him, but the sound of a smirk was quite evidence. "Fuckin' classic man."

Mike turned around to see Ryan now looking at him, an eyebrow cocked. He suddenly came out of his daze, looking at the driver beside him with a confused and embarassed look. The latter chuckled.

"Damn, man." He shooked his head with a slight smile in the corner of his mouth.  He brushed his messy hair back with one hand and sighed, now two hands sturdily gripped on the wheel. "Anyway, I don't know if you like horror movies or not, but I didn't ask before, and its what I wanted to see, and I don't fucking care, and I have no idea why I'm fucking talking." He shut his mouth abruptly.  When Ryan spoke, either never finished his sentences or did so after every two words. 

 

The rain subsided oddly enough minutes before the car pulled into the drive-in.  The vechile sat next to a van with several ilks of loud noises coming from it, mostly talking and music.  Without making a comment, Ryan climbed out the driver's side door and headed towards a group of girls standing outside the adjacent vehicle.

The three of them leaned against the rusty side of the door.  The covered their mouths as they laughed, they wore a lot of makeup, and one had bruises on her lower neck which she pretended others didn't notice - in short, they were the pretty girls. The ones who hung out with Amanda, the ones all the boys wanted, either to bang or just in general, the ones who cried during school in the bathrooms and no one knew if it was serious or just a plea for attention.  

With his hand scratching the back of his neck, Ryan approached them. "Hey ladies."

God, he was smooth.

Two blushed. Of course, that's what they always did.  

"Why you three here tonight?"

The blonde in the front smiled. She was one of the guilty ones - just the look in her eyes when she looked at him. 

"Just, you know, here to watch a movie."

His only answer was a raising of his brows. 

"Huh."

"And you?" 

"It was just so happen to be the same."

Mike could hear this faint conversation through the rolled down window.  He considered Ryan's odd pattern of speech to be ironic. His vocabulary was often riddled with "fucks" and "cunts" and his voice was slurred from the amount of booze he had had.  

He could hear the talk continue for a while, now just staring at his feet.  What was he to do anyway? Get up and interrupt? While he often didn't care, it would seem rude. Mostly because he didn't want a bad impression for Ryan.  'But what if Ryan doesn't care anyway?' Several versions of this query rushed through his head, but no solution. Fuck. 

This intrusive thought was interrupted by the clunk of a car door shutting. There was Ryan once again, but this time with two bottles of beer. 

"Stupid bitches," he says, as he opens one under his shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I finally updated this if anyone is still reading. If people still like it, ill continue. I feel kind of embarassed writing this because I think fan fiction is kind of cringey but its practice. Also sorry if this isnt in the same style. Taking months off will do that to you.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to say that this is my first work so if it's bad (or good) I would appreciate feedback and comments. 
> 
> New chapters are coming, hopefully longer and better, but enjoy nontheless.


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